Without another word, she pulled a pure gold bracelet from her pocket and carefully slipped it onto my daughter’s tiny wrist. She held her granddaughter’s hand for a moment, admiring it with an expression of deep satisfaction.
After a while, she seemed to remember I was there. She patted the back of my hand affectionately.
"There weren’t many styles to choose from at the jewelry store," she said apologetically, "but I’ll go to another one after I finish my work and find something nice for Elysia. Giving birth is like walking through the gates of hell. We shouldn’t favor one over the other."
I smiled and thanked her, though my heart grew colder.
Mom, I’m afraid Elysia won’t be able to wait for your gift.
She didn’t notice my change in demeanor, too preoccupied with her chores. With a contented sigh, she turned and walked back to the kitchen.
When Elysia returned, her arms were laden with bags of nutritional supplements.
The moment she stepped through the door, my dad forgot all about the news on TV. He stood up quickly, his usual composure replaced with urgency.